


8:46 AM, New York City

by MonroeStyne



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: 9/11, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Gore, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Suspense, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonroeStyne/pseuds/MonroeStyne
Summary: On one fateful day in 2001, the entire Bat-Family ( Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra, and Damian) take what turns out to be a dangerous trip to New York. With the family separated and chaos flooding the streets, will all 8 of them be able to make it out alive?





	1. Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Alright guys here we go! This story is gonna start off pretty chill with a lot of fun family bounding and humor and then it's gonna take a drastic turn so stay tuned for sadness. Also just a reminder that this story takes place during 9/11/01 and I've tried to stay as realistic as possible, if 9/11 triggers you I suggest ducking out after chapter 3. Hope you like it, let me know what you all think!

Bruce  
Its 6 AM when I make it to the breakfast table, body painted with the usual bruises and worries of last night’s promises, most of which I don’t even remember. Damian, Cassandra and Stephanie are already eating silently when I approach. “Good Morning everyone.” I say plainly as I lower myself into my chair at the head of the table. Before any of them can respond I’m assaulted by bouncy flamboyant energy as Dick pops into my field of vision. “Good morning Bruce! Are you excited for our trip today?” I try to keep my face as stoic as possible but I’m so confused I can’t help myself. I raise a questioning eyebrow in response and his smile droops. “You didn’t forget did you?” And here come the puppy dog eyes. Where is Alfred when I need him? Then I have to remind myself that Dick is a grown man and can handle the truth. “I have no recollection of planning any sort of trip for today.” This is when Damian pipes up from his nearly empty plate of waffles. “It’s true father, last night you promised us a trip to New York today.” New York? When? My head swims with last night’s adventures “The Young Master is right Sir,” Alfred chimes in as he enters from the kitchen, setting plates in the remaining spots around the table. “Last night you promised all of the children a trip to New York today without the slightest tone of sarcasm in your voice.” All of the children?

I stand and follow Alfred into the kitchen while the table bursts into excited conversation. “When you said all of the children, who do you mean?” Alfred turns to me, an amused smirk meeting me like a slap in the face. “I mean all of them, Sir. Even Master Jason relented after much coaxing from Master Dick. In fact he should be down any minute for breakfast.” Down any minute? Something somewhere in my brain the words seem out of place. “Did Jason stay here last night?” I ask cautiously. Alfred, always knowing the deeper meaning to my words simply says. “Master Dick is very persuasive.”

Sure enough, not five minutes after I return to the table, which has grown with the addition of a beaming Barbara and a very subdued Tim, who is working on his first cup of coffee of many, Jason bursts into the room. Jason is a wildcard, always has been and I assume he always will be. He either is excited about something or is against it, so really it’s a tossup of whether Jason is going to be very helpful, or very violent. I glance up from my coffee to meet him and for a long few seconds he just stands there. It seems as though he’s waiting to receive everyone’s attention. He crosses his arms and waits, even though we all know patience isn’t his strongest virtue. Second by second the talking dies down, and pairs of tired eyes rise to meet his bulky frame. Just as the last pair is cast in his direction he throws his arms in the air revealing his “I <3 NYC” t-shirt and shouts “WHO’S READY?!”

The table erupts into cheers and applause, with the obvious exception of Damian and myself. Dick leaps from his chair and wraps his arms around Jason in what looks like a very strong, and extremely uncomfortable hug. Jason pushes him off with little bitterness, which I can appreciate and for just a split second, what could almost appear as a blink of an eye, all 7 of them are at peace with each other; that’s before Tim’s coffee gets knocked off the table and into Damian’s lap. A nuke of violence breaks out among them, Damian leaping onto Tim’s back with fury, whilst hurling the mug at Jason, which hits him in the head and shatters on contact. Jason crashes to the ground, bewildered, his head gushing blood. Tim’s flailing, struggling to wrestle Damian from his back as Jason gets frustrated with both the amount of affection he’s receiving and the amount of pain he’s in. He jumps back to his feet, swaying slightly before lunging himself at Damian, ripping him from Tim’s back and slamming him to the ground. Dick and Barbara are trying to pull Jason, who seems to be radiating hatred, off of Damian and Steph and Tim are fighting, for as far as I can tell, no reason.

I sit still in my chair, drinking my coffee with Cass, who has taken the vacated seat beside me. Why can’t I just take her to New York with me? I sigh heavily and rise from my seat, speaking only one word “Stop.” Everyone freezes. I glance at each of them. Dick with a fistful of Jason’s, now ruined, bloody T-shirt, Barbara holding one of Jason’s arms, Jason himself who is covered in way too much blood to be conscious pinning an amused Damian to the floor. Tim and Steph have a handful of each other’s shirt collars and have stopped screaming but still refuse to break eye contact. “Stand up and look at me. All of you.” They release each other and stand to face me, Barbara catching Jason when he starts to waiver. “All of you go upstairs and get dressed, be back down here in 10 minutes.”

They all begin to make their way upstairs, Damian rushing in front of them. Then Jason stops, makes a hissing noise, much like one you make when you accidentally prick yourself with a sewing needle, sways slightly, and collapses to the ground. We all just stare at him for a second, noticing the small dart protruding from the base of his neck. I bring my hand to the bridge of my nose, trying to fight the headache which is already beginning to germinate. “Cassandra go get Alfred please and take Jason down stairs to get stitched up.” She silently flows to the kitchen, and I turn my head up to where Damian perches at the top of the staircase. The others follow my gaze. “Damian, give it to me. Now.” He sulks down the stairs, and places the small dart gun in my hands with a scowl. “Give me the rest too.” He looks up at me in a state of shock, before reaching into his robe and pulling out 7 throwing stars. “Where were you even keeping those?” Dick yells. I keep my hand outstretched and we spend the next two minutes picking all of the weapons off of the small boy. “You’re grounded from Robin duties and all weapons for a week, and you have to apologize to your brothers.” He starts to object, but realizes it’s futile. “Yes Father.” He growls, and stomps his way up the stairs. As the rest of us make our way upstairs I can only think about how miserable and hour and a half drive with all of them is going to be.

Sure enough, 6 minutes later when I descend the recently polished oak steps I’m met with all 7 of them waiting by the front door, Dick holding up a drowsy Jason between him and Cass. I walk past them into the kitchen where I find Alfred making snacks for the road. “How’s Jason’s head?” He doesn’t even look up to answer me. “He will be fine Master Bruce, just some superficial cuts and a concussion. As long as he doesn’t fall asleep in the next few hours he will be right as rain.” He seals the last zip lock bag with one swift and precise motion. He places all of the goodies in a tote bag before turning to me “I have already prepared the van for the children. Please have an enjoyable time Sir, and I expect all of you back here tonight in one piece.” I take the tote bag he holds out to me, swinging it onto my shoulder and taking the keys in my other hand. I wish he was coming with us, I don’t think I handle them all for this extended period of time. I try for a weak smile and walk out of the kitchen.

When I get outside, Dick has Damian in a headlock, Tim and Barbara are arguing about who gets to sit with Cass, Steph is reassuring Cass that the argument is a good thing, and Jason looks as if he is going to either hurl or spontaneously combust. I sigh deeply and squeeze the back of my neck. I look back to Alfred, who followed me outside. He strides past me and quiets them with one flick of his wrist. “Damian you sit in the front.” The others growl at the young boy’s devilish grin as he slips into the passenger seat. “Stephanie, Cassandra and Timothy you will be in the back. That leaves you three in the middle row.” He points to Dick, Barbara and Jason. They all file in without question, muttering varying degrees of insults and groans of protest. I make my way to the driver’s side door and climb into the lush leather seat. I roll down the window to wave to Alfred as we pull away. He waves back and calls “Please have fun Sir!” He must have seen my pained expression because as he disappeared back into the house, I swear I could hear him laughing.


	2. Long, Winding Road

The Car Ride

Barbara

As the journey begins everyone settles down, for at least a few minutes. Bruce, who is directly in front of me, wears a very nice pair of noise canceling headphones. Before putting them on he claimed it was work related but I doubt it. In all honesty I don’t blame the man, I wouldn’t want to listen to us either. Damian sits with his legs crossed Indian style, crouching over a sketchbook. Stephanie whispers a story to Cass from behind me, and I twist my head to find Tim already asleep. Jason is trying to read a book but between the headache and the bubbly idiot sitting between us, he can’t concentrate. So he’s settled for clenching his eyes closed and trying to refrain from punching Dick in the face. With Dick distracted it seems like a good chance as any to get some work done, so I pull out my laptop to finish my paper for my Religion class due in a few days. Just as my hand is about to lift open the screen, his voice stops me. “Whatcha doin’?” Well shit. “Nothing.” I try to hide the annoyance in my voice as I slide my laptop back into my bag. So much for productivity. “Do you want to play a game like on patrol?” He asks, eyes glimmering. “Yeah I’ll play. What about you Jason?” Please say you’ll play too, I can’t handle an excited Dick all on my own, I plead in my head. “No.” He says, almost growling. Figures.

For the next 15 minutes I played I-Spy with a full grown, crime fighting, man-child. Lucky for me Steph joined in after a few minutes, so I wasn’t alone. The most amusing part of it was when Dick would make sure Jason was awake about every 3 seconds. “Jay? Are you alive?” Jason’s eyes snap open and narrow at Dick dangerously. “Unfortunately, yes. Now leave me alone Dick wad.” And then his eyes slide shut again. “You’re not supposed to fall asleep Jay. You have a concussion.” This time he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes when he says. “Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to be so fucking annoying either, so I guess neither of us are getting what we want.” Cass even laughed at that. And even better, when the game sagged and Dick leans forward lifting one of Bruce’s headphones off of his ear and whispering “Are we there yet?” All of which made Jason writhe minutely with annoyance.

It wasn’t until Damian pulled out a thermos of sweet and sour chicken that Jason perked up. He sat up immediately, like a dog catching a scent, interrupting our 800th game of I Spy. Damian, who apparently has some sort of 6th sense, reaches into the bag at his feet and passes a container over his head to Jason, who barely has it in his grasp when all hell breaks loose. The seeming serenity of the van is shattered with a brick, raining sudden shards of chaos on its inhabitants. Dick starts screaming, and flailing his freakishly long arms wildly in every direction. Tim sits up with a start and without knowing why, begins screaming too, searching the air around him in absolute terror. Steph is yelling “WHAT’S GOING ON?!” at the top of her lungs, curling up on her seat frantically. I duck to avoid Dick’s propellers but Jason wasn’t so quick and gets caught with an elbow in the nose, immediately blood starts gushing everywhere, painting the thick leather seats a deep crimson. Bruce and Damian have both turned around trying to yell questions over the noise. Cass sits silently, seemingly unfazed. Jason is screaming profanity at Dick, who ignores him. Then suddenly Damian reaches up into the air and grabs something with his chopsticks. A bee.

“Grayson! Grayson!! Stop! I caught it!” Tim, Steph and Bruce all start screaming variations of: “Really!? A bee? It’s just a bee!” I cautiously sit back up and reach across to Jason trying to get his attention over the commotion. “Are you okay?” I swear I can almost see the heat waves shimmering off of him. His eye starts to twitch and he looks like he’s about to snap. He keeps his head tilted back with one hand trying to staunch the flow, with the other hand I see Jason going for the small pistol he always keeps in his waistband. I unbuckle as quickly as I can and fling myself across Dick’s lap reaching for the gun. Jason and I are wrestling over the firearm, Damian is teasing Dick with the bee, and Cassandra has Steph’s head in her lap and is stroking her hair soothingly. Tim is whining to Bruce “I already don’t get enough sleep and now there is blood everywhere!” Bruce is trying to scream over us to shut up. “Jason! Stop! PUT THE GUN AWAY JASON!” I yell. “HE HAS A GUN?!” screams Dick in response, which prompts Bruce to twist in his seat to yell at Jason “Jason put that gun away of so help me god I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” the car swerves. That’s when we hear the sirens.

“Everyone try and stay calm” Says Bruce, who is trying to regain his own composure. I snatch the gun away from Jason and after double checking the safety, I shove it into my backpack. He shoots me a dirty look. The car comes to a stop at the side of the road and a young woman approaches. Bruce rolls down the window, immediately hitting her with his million dollar smile. “Is there a problem officer?” She’s just about to respond when she squints at Bruce, as if trying to place him. “Um… yeah, you were going 25 over the speed limit Sir.” She looks into the van, to find it a mess, of blood and young adults. Just as she’s about to say something else, Dick speaks, suddenly calm, from beside me. “Ma’am I am so sorry it’s just my brother here,” He puts a reassuring hand on Jason’s shoulder. “He has a very rare disorder that causes him very painful nosebleeds and we forgot to pack his meds, if we don’t get him his medication soon then he could have a seizure.” Jason, who is catching on, groans and contorts his face in mock pain, Dick pats his back soothingly. “My little brother here was just giving us some tissue, that’s why he’s unbuckled ma’am.” Damian reaches into the bag at his feet and offers a napkin to Jason, who takes it weakly.

The woman looks shocked, she’s obviously new and stumbles on her words. “Oh my well… How about I give you an escort to the nearest drug store and we’ll just call it a warning...” She frowns slightly, they don’t teach this sort of the thing at the academy. As she turns away Bruce says, quite loudly, to Jason. “It’s going to be okay Jay, just hang in there buddy.” I swear my face is red from trying not to laugh.

We start the car and speed off behind the young officer, everyone cracks up. Even Cassandra giggles a little. Bruce even lets his face twist in a small, amused smile. “Dick, thank you.” Dick stops laughing, gasps for just enough air to say “Sure… Dad.” We all start laughing again. “Jason, how is your nose?” Bruce continues, disregarding Dick’s response. Jason still has his head back, a napkin quickly becoming soaked through. “I’m still bleeding, like a lot. But it’s not completely broken so that’s cool.” That catches me off guard. It’s not completely broken… That kid’s got quite the pain tolerance. Sometimes I forget what extraordinary people my surrogate family are. As I clutch the stitch in my side I just let myself enjoy the moment, all of us laughing. The pain we’re experiencing is out of love and laughter, not danger. It’s moments like these, in which I could live forever.

Once we reach the Walgreens, get Jason a new t-shirt, clean up the van, tape up Jason’s nose, and buy enough candy to knock an elephant on its ass, we’re back in the car and settling down again. That’s when I check my watch and realize we’ve only been on the road for 43 minutes, that’s almost an hour left. Before Dick can even think of getting bored I reach into my bag and pull out my new Game Boy Advance, shove in a miscellaneous cartridge and lay it in his empty hands. Damian drawing, Jason reading, Dick playing a video game, Steph and Cass eating silently and Tim set up to his caffeine drip, all of us making it to New York alive seems more possible. I take a moment to appreciate the peacefulness, how nice it is to have all of my siblings sitting quietly around me. I lean forward and gently lift up one of Bruce’s earphones. “Thank you Bruce.” He doesn’t reply but he smiles, and that’s all the answer I need. And as time drags unforgivingly passed us we eventually make our way to the gleaming towers who stretch their spines into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave a review if you like the story! Next perspective is gonna be our very own Dick Grayson! Stay tuned!!


	3. Welcome to the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! A chapter from everyone's favorite, Dick Grayson.
> 
> Enjoy!

**The Towers**

**Dick**

I’m so immersed in playing Batman: Chaos in Gotham on Bab’s new Gameboy, I almost don’t notice when we finally got to New York. I save the game, shut down the console and stretch across Jay’s lap so I can look out the window. He growls and tries to push me off but I’m determined to see the city as much as possible. “Don’t you understand personal space Dick head?” There’s not any real bitterness in his voice, he just seems tired. He’s probably just now starting to feel uneasy about spending a day out with the family he doesn’t feel he belongs in. I meet his scowl with the biggest smile I could muster, grab his book and point out the window. He reaches behind me for his paperback. “God dammit Dick, what are you 5?” He snatches it back from me and I roll my eyes. “Just look!” I point again. Reluctantly he does so, my heart does this painful little flutter and I get this surge of a feeling that has been sleeping in dust blankets for far too long. I feel like _his_ big brother. The smile on my face grows, becoming genuine. Recently he’s started to be part of the family more. Going on patrols on with us, coming to dinner, staying the night when we’re out late, and now this. It’s a miracle really, something I never dreamt would happen.

We drive through Broadway, all of us just taking it in silently. It’s so much cleaner here than Gotham, where the thick air weighs in your lungs like bricks to the bottom of the ocean. Here there are lights and colorful billboards sprinkled along the roofs, instead of villains and vigilantes. It truly is beautiful here. We park in a parking garage a few blocks away, laughing at Bruce, who can park the batmobile but not a van. Bruce takes the key out of the ignition, peels off his headphones, and twists in his chair to face us. “Okay so where are we going first?” Just as all of us start to speak our minds Bruce’s voice rises again. “One at a time!” Silence ensues.

I personally want to check out Broadway, I’m a bit of a musical theatre nerd myself, and I have been hearing great things about _Mama Mia_ and _The Producers_ both of which were released earlier this year and have been getting great reviews. Bruce turns to Damian first. “What do you want to do?” Damian sticks his chin up. “I want to walk down Greenwich Street to look at the world trade center, it’s a beautiful piece of architecture.” Geez what a snob! “I want to walk down Broadway!” Says Babs. Speaking both of our minds. “Me too!” I chime in. “As much as it hurts me to agree with Demon Spawn, like physically hurts me, I want to walk down Greenwich, I’ve heard there is a great coffee shop a-” Tim begins before he’s interrupted by Steph. “Oooh coffee sounds good! I’m with Tim.” “I would like Broadway.” Says Cass wistfully, a finger of excitement plucking at her vocal chords. “It’s down to you Jason.” I say. He looks around from face, to eager face. “I guess Broadway doesn’t sound too bad.” Babs and I high five and I stick my tongue out at Damian, whose face is turning purple with anger.

I didn’t hear it, I was too busy celebrating, but Jason certainly did. He sits up in his seat and looks at Damian with fire in his eyes. “What did you just say brat?” Poison dripping from his words. Damian narrows his eyes, speaking as if on top of the world. “I said, why should you be the deciding factor? It’s not like you’re actually part of the family.” The words were recently sharpened, and stick into Jason’s heart like darts to a dart board.

Bullseye.

Jason tries to not let the words mean anything. He doesn’t show it but I can see what they did to him. The words have the same effect on Jason as a fat joke has on an anorexic. They confirm what he fears most, not belonging. I shoot a knife like stare at Damian, everyone else in the car joins me. “That’s enough Damian.” Bruce’s voice speaks, not nearly as sharp as I think it should be. The van falls deathly quiet, the lightheartedness and joy, dimming ever so slightly. Jason glares down at his hands. Bruce speaks up again. “I actually need coffee so we will be going to Greenwich first, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to Broadway.” His eyes linger on Jason for just a split second before turning to get out of the car. The fire in my stomach grows, feeding my wrath. Why didn’t he say anything? It’s ridiculous the type of things that little beast can get away with. I can’t believe he’s getting what he wants after saying something like that to Jason. I look to Barbara, whose face is speaking what I’m feeling. We’re going to have a serious talk with Bruce sometime in the near future.

We file out of the car and I can hear Tim and Steph talking in harsh whispers about the Devil child’s behavior. Jason walks just off to my right, counting the cracks in the pavement, his expression is unreadable even to me; meaning he’s built up his walls again. He can’t bear to be fragile, to be dependent on something that could be taken away from him. Dammit Damian. That kid must really be starting puberty or something. Bruce is walking in the front talking about stocks and theoretical prospects to Cass, who listens intently, nodding and offering small words of wisdom. Her and Jason already so damaged by this world, so strong yet so helpless, and the feeling that I can’t protect them makes my insides ache. But Bruce has the power to protect them, to keep them close and out of harm's way, and he does nothing.

“Why the hell would you say that? Do you _want_ him to leave again?” I’m alerted to Tim’s abrasive whisper from behind me. I turn my attention his way, while pretending not to notice. I look over at Babs, who is also listening intently. “That’s none of my concern Drake.” Damian’s voice spits back. “None of your concern? He’s your brother Damian and he’s been through more hell than any of us can imagine and as much as he hates to admit it, he needs us.” Stephanie reasons. “Tt.” There’s that sound. I hate that sound. “He’s not my brother! And neither are you! None of you are!” Damian hisses. “Legally he is batbrat. Bruce adopted him, he adopted me too!” Retorts Tim. “Tt. Papers don’t make you family.” Spits back Damian. He rushes away from them and I can hear Tim trying to persuade Steph that murdering the youngest will only do more harm than good.

I grab his shoulder as he tries to pass me. Out of all of his “siblings” I’m the one he respects the most, not like that’s saying much. “Damian-” I try to reason with him but he cuts me off. “I didn’t mean it ok? I don’t know why I said it I just said it! Now let go of me Grayson!” He twists away from me, rushing ahead to walk in the safety of Bruce’s shadow, a large arm reaching out to encircle his nimble shoulders. I glare at the picture for a moment, the way Bruce keeps some of us at arm’s length. Just opening that door in my mind causes filing cabinets of theories burst open and spew their contents in my head. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Asks Barbara from my left. I nob, that kid says he doesn’t know why he said it, but I know, and Babs knows, and deep down he knows it too. As much as I want to be a responsible adult and handle this situation with grace, I also want to beat the shit out of Damian and Bruce and give them a PowerPoint presentation about how stupid they both are. It must be hereditary.

When we finally get to the coffee shop, Babs has to stop me from ordering, saying that I already have too much energy and for her sake I should skip out on my usual cup of Joe. I reluctantly agree, it’s still only 8:27 AM and I want my morning coffee. But I would rather go a few hours without caffeine then deal with an angry Barbara. Everyone orders, we all laugh at the barista’s face when Tim orders a triple red eye. I laugh even harder when Damian orders a coffee and is given a baby hot chocolate instead, I looked over at Stephanie who has a wry smile planted firmly on her face. _Good one!_ I think. If there’s one thing that gets Damian pissed it’s being treated like a child, which is funny because he is one. Jason has seemed to have painted his mask back on because when I glance over at him he’s flirting with the barista with the utmost of confidence, and after getting the pretty ginger’s phone number, he and Steph do their secret handshake.

When Bruce and I finally heard all of them out of the busy New York coffee shop, Jason finally picking up Tim and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of highly caffeinated potatoes. We make our way to the World Trade center by 8:36. Barbara and I wait behind with Bruce while the others go to check out the twin towers. “Bruce we need to talk about Jason.” I begin. His face immediately erasing the smile and returning his usual rock hard expression. “What do you mean? Jason is fine, look at him!” We turn to where Bruce’s gaze lie. Jason has Cass on his shoulders, spinning her till she nearly falls off from laughing, he’s beaming but the light behind it is dim, the ocean in his eyes slightly murky. “What Damian said to him really made an impact Bruce.” Barb continues. “Are you old guys coming or what?” we hear Steph yell from the doorway to the North Tower. “We’ll be there in a minute, you guys go on ahead.” I respond. The clock ticks by.

8:39.

“Please you two, can we not talk about this right now? Let’s just try to enjoy ourselves, okay?” “No Bruce we can talk about this now!” I hear casual footsteps, small talk. I step into the conversation, locking the door behind me, throwing Bruce the key.

8:40.

The words begin to fly like a startled murder of crows in heavy winds. Phrases twist and contort in anger. Voices caught in the moment, unsure. The topic blows out of the water, snapping my small fishing rod, too big for me to handle on my own. But Barbara’s hand reminds me I’m not alone, not this time.

8:41.

Someone is laughing. I grab Barbara’s arm forcing her to take a step back. She speaks in harsh whispers, small shards of glass that get lost under your skin. Someone takes a family picture. With her by my side I can finally say what I’ve kept locked away for so long. Fists tighten.

8:42.

“You let that kid get away with anything!” She yells. His eyes heat in fury, he must know we’re right somewhere in that freakishly thick skull of his. The light changes, the traffic stops. Is it courage or blind rage that gives me the strength to face him?

8:43.

Now I’m the one in his face, blood racing, pumping the anger through my system. “I’m doing my best!” I laugh, it’s bitter and tastes like bile on my tongue. A distant roaring in the sky, something easily ignored.

8:44.

“Oh really? Let’s be honest with ourselves Bruce, Alfred raised us, he raised all of us.” I step closer, too close, I feel the hurt he masks in intimidation. Time and betrayal all racing, racing, racing through my mind. “I’m trying Dick.” The words blunt, bitter, poisonous. Jason holds a door open for a woman weighed down with files. Litter blowing, carefree in the wind.

8:45.

“Well how about for once in your life you try to be a Dad?” I don’t need to shout the words for them to create the desired destruction. Emotion flickers across his eyes before he hides behind the curtain again. The wonderful wizard not all that he seems. Then doubt. Did I say too much? Barbara’s hand on my wrist. The sound of children playing. I’ll never be able to take it back. The roaring is louder, there is screaming. What if I made a mistake?

8:46.

And right on cue, my world falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty so next chapter is when shit really starts hitting the fan so stay tuned for Tim Drake's chapter up next. Also a big thanks to all who commented or left kudos it really means alot.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> MS


	4. The Rumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait, the holidays are a really hard time for me mentally and I sorta fell into a hole. But, I'm back now, so yay! Here is a chapter from Tim, things start to get really rough here and don't calm down until the epilogue so get ready. Enjoy!!

**Tim**

My life is relatively tame in the grand scheme of things, I have a routine, I have a pattern, and people who love and look out for me. Now… Now I’ve been reminded just how fragile all of that can be. The last thing I heard before the screaming, and the crumbling masonry, the panicked stampede of people, was “How about for once in your life you try to be a Dad?” I turn my head to where Dick and Barbara stand, opposite of Bruce. I was about to say something when the plane hit, when it fractured the lenses in which I see the world. Everything is a disjointed mess of fractured glass, heat and fear.

I reach for Damian’s shirt collar, throwing him out of the way of the showers of glass. There is so much screaming and my ears ring. Jason is yelling at me to do something. He’s already bleeding, how can that be possible? “What?” I seem to shout but I can’t even hear myself. Suddenly he has his hands on my face, slapping me gently, pulling me back into the chaos of this cold September morning. “I need you to go into that tower,” He turns me to the tower that remains intact. “I need you to take Damian and get as many people out of there as possible, but as soon as this other tower starts to look like it’s coming down I need both of you to get the hell out of there! Do you understand?” I nod or say something along the lines of “Uh huh.” Because next thing I know, me and Demon Spawn are watching Jason, Cass and Steph disappear into the flaming building.

I look back to where I just saw Dick and Babs and Bruce, but I can’t seem to locate them in the throng of panicked people. I grab Damian and I follow orders, something I’ve always been good at. I run up the stairs, leaving Damian in the lobby to usher people outside, I stop at every floor yelling, “Evacuate the building! It’s not safe!” Then I just step back as the flood of people surge around me, like a stone in a river. The minutes surge past me, flying faster than I could ever had thought. About half way up I get this twisted feeling in my stomach and race back down the stairs only to be stopped by the sight of a young man, curled into himself and murmuring softly. I approach him with caution, not wanting to frighten him anymore. “Sir? Sir are you ok?” I place one of my shaky hands on his shoulder. “Sir we need to get out of this building now!” He looks up at me, tears planning trenches along his cheeks, “My wife works on 95th floor in the North Tower.” He turns his head to look out the window and points into the black hole of smoke and destruction. “Right… right there. She works by the window so we can see each other. Right there…” His voice breaks off into muffled sobs.

My eyes stayed glued to the fire on the tower across from us. Today was just supposed to be a regular Tuesday. Bruce got us out of school, Dick got out of work and we came here to have fun, to have a good time, to _bond._ And now it’s actually gone up in flames. I grab the man’s shoulders and haul him to his feet. He doesn’t resist, he just lets me lead him to the stairs, and guide him through the rush of terrified people, running from what they are incapable of facing. I take one second to look out the window at the opposite tower. Where are Jason, Cass and Steph? Are they ok? Are they alive? What would I do with myself if they died? Why can’t I seem to move? But that wasn’t an issue for long, planes can be very persuasive when it comes to stationary objects, like myself.

The building shuddered and heaved from the impact, sending most people sprawling to the floor. I sway slightly before regaining my balance, then immediately rush down the stairs as fast as possible. I have to get to Damian, he’s my little brother. Although he’s the vain of my existence, I love him and it’s my job to keep him safe. I jump the last few stairs, squeezing my way past people, sliding into the lobby, scanning the room frantically. “Damian! Damian!” I’m yelling, hands cupped around my mouth in an effort to make my voice be heard. Someone slams into my shoulder, sending me crashing to the ground, I try to get up, to regain my footing but there are too many boots, too many bodies crushing down on me. I curl in a tight ball and try to ignore the impossible circumstances.

“Drake? Tim?” Damian. I open my eyes and try to push my way up again, steel plated boots come down hard on my ribs, cracking my facade. “Damian?” I croak out weakly. Seconds pass and I feel a small hand on my shoulder, it yanks me up harshly and I wince. He lets concern slide across his face for a fraction of a second, before re-establishing his frown. Feet planted firmly on the ground, balance regained, Damian turns back towards the stairs. I stop him with a hand on his shoulder. “Damian, what are you doing? We’ve gotta get out of here now!” I pull him back towards me, he pushes back fiercely. “There are still people in here Drake, what are you? Stupid? We have to save them!” “Damian, Jason Said tha-” “I don’t give a shit what Todd said! We save people that’s our job!” That’s it, I will get this child out of here if I have to drag him out myself. “How do you expect to save people if you’re dead Damian?! Think rationally for once and let’s get the hell out of here. Because we are going to live god dammit, we are going to live through this so get your ass outside NOW!” He’s taken aback from my outburst, but frankly I don’t give a shit, so I grab the little monster and pull him along with me into the September sun.

We stumble out into the street, already congested with emergency vehicles. I look around for anyone, for Dick or Barbara, for Jason. I hope they’re aren’t still in that tower. The smoke is so thick and heavy it starts to blot out the sun. The world starts spinning in nauseating ellipses and I find it hard to keep my stomach at ease. All of the chaos, the commotion, it's indescribable.

Someone grabs me harshly by the shoulder and pulls me, and Damian, out of the stream of people and behind a fire truck. I look up into those sea blue eyes and they offer more security than I usually seek in them. “Timmy, are you two okay?” His mouths moves and we nod mutely. “Jason, Cass and Steph went into the North Tower Dick, I don’t know if they’ve come out yet.” He drags a hand across his scalp, and breathes in heavily. “Ok, ok… ok.” He looks up at the North Tower and suddenly his mouth goes slack and hangs limply from his head, agape. I look up too to find something falling from the sky, then there is another, and another. People. Jumping from the fire, leaping by the fistful to the cruel concrete hundreds of feet below them. I keep waiting for the parachutes to open, or for their grappling gun to go off, so they can swing to safety. None of that happens though, as they embrace the wise street below with a splat.

“I need you to stay here, both of you. I’m going to go find the other three, keep an eye out for Babs and Bruce I can’t seem to find them.” And before either of us has the mind to protest, he’s gone. I rest my head back against the truck in defeat. I want to go help I want to be the hero, but they don’t need a hero, they need a miracle. I keep and tight grip on Damian’s hoodie, so afraid that he’ll slip away, that he’ll go pull a Jason and do something reckless. Then he does just that. “I have to do something Drake.” he spits as he swiftly unzips his hoodie, wriggles free and takes off for the south tower. “God Damnit!” I hiss the words as I take off after the little bird. _He’s so stupid! What is he thinking?!_ I step inside the lobby when the building groans. Damian stands just out of reach. “Damian, let’s go...Now.” I hold out my hand to him. He glares back at my request. “Jesus fuck Damian, come here right now!”

I take an angry step forward and the world around me makes this odd sound. Almost reminiscent of the sound a shoulder makes when it’s put back in the socket, but at the same time the sound a rock slide. The building’s coming down, I know it, I know its coming down and it’s coming down now. “Damian!!” I reach forward again, not wanting to lose the safety of the doorway. The young bird is frozen the building begins to collapse. I scream out again “DAMIAN!” Someone from behind me screams my name. Barbara? He won’t move he can’t. He’s paralyzed in fear. I lunge forward. The supports sway. I snag his wrist. We're almost to the door. The lights crackle out, the only light is from the front windows and doorways. I can almost touch it!

Then we all… fall… down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is from Stephanie. What do you guys think will happen to our heroes? What did you think of the chapter? Let me know!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> MS


	5. Fire Speaks it's Own Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I hope you're all buckled in. My writing is a little jumpy in this story and I apologize, I wrote it awhile ago. Also If you're reading my other story, August 16th, I am working really hard on getting the next chapter ready so stay posted. Anyway here's a chapter from the one and only Stephanie Brown! Enjoy!

**Fire Speaks Its Own Language**

**Stephanie**

“No! Stephanie stop!” Jason’s hands wrap around my shoulders, ensnaring me. I twist in his grasp to face him. “The building… its gone Jason it's… it's just gone!” He opens his mouth to respond but no sounds come out. I look to his eyes and find the words trapped there, I read them from his pupils. _No, I told them to get out. They have to have gotten out they’re not stupid. They got out right? Right!?_ I shake my head in bewilderment. _Yes, yes… he… they got out. Yes… Yes…_ I turn to look at Cass, hundreds of words flying in no discernible order behind her irises. I shake away the rattle in my bones, and in my frenzy give Jason a solid slap on the face and send him soaring back into reality. His hand goes reflexively to his cheek and looks at me with an empty gaze, his mind pacing behind it, trying to formulate a plan. I instantly regret the action, Jason still has a concussion from this morning, and when the first plane hit he caught a door with his face and blood oozes patiently down his right temple.

I peel his remaining hand off of me and face Cass, she’s already tucking the chaos in her mind into cluttered, strong filing cabinets, locking the doors quickly against the thrashing anxieties inside them. I grab her wrist and pull her from where she had lost her balance when the South tower fell. Dazed and hollow the three of us stand for several long seconds, deaf to the screams, blind to the flames, incapable to comprehend it all. I turn back to Jason who is slowly, but surely, climbing back to the surface world. “Any ideas? Or should we all just try to save as many people as we can?” He blinks hard and stands to his full height. He forces a broken smile across his face, trying desperately to hide the fear and exhaustion beneath it. Putting on the older brother facade he says, “I bet I can save more people than you can.” The joke lightens the weight in my gut ever so slightly. I smirk back “Bet.” But the playfulness never reaches my eyes.

I start up the stairs when Jason’s arm blockades me. “What?” I try to get passed him again, thinking about all of the time that we’re wasting fighting over this. “It’s too dangerous up there Steph, you and Cass should take the lower floors.” The words could’ve almost sounded like a suggestion. “You’re the one with a concussion Jay! I can handle myself.” I try to squeeze out of his grip one more time but he pushes me back and stands in my way, I look back to Cass but she’s already busied herself on the floors below. _Dammit. I really could’ve used a distraction._ “You’re in no shape to be going up there Jay, just let me do it!” Suddenly he’s boiling with rage, his already huge frame seems to double in size. He takes a menacing step closer and I find that I’m almost afraid of him. I cross my arms in my anger when he begins to shout. “God dammit Steph! Please just go downstairs with Cass and try not to get killed! I know you can handle yourself but so could Tim and Damian and they might be buried under a fucking building right now! So for FUCKS SAKE JUST GO!”

My arms fall to my side and tears walk on my eyelashes as if tightropes. I want to shout something back but what? What could I possibly say? He’s right after all. “They made it out.” It sounds like a demand, quivering in both strength and weakness. I let the words haunt the air as I bound down the stairs to the panic below.

I’m met with empty halls, granted I’m somewhere on the 70th floor but its oddly empty, occupied only by the already dead. Floor to floor is like this, I make my way down the tower stopping occasionally to free those who are imprisoned by their fear. I rush to them coaxing them ever so firmly out of their terror, all the while falling deeper into mine. I’m able to keep myself relatively blind to the horrors around me, I keep my head down and save as many as I can. Then I hear the crying. I’m a few stairs from the serious damage when it starts. I’m in the stairway, I can feel the heat whispering to me, hissing at me in mockery as it devours the building. I hear Cass’s catlike footfall on the steps behind me. Jason closes an office door to my right. He looks woozy, a little like someone whose brain is turning to mush. I look up to where the sound emanates. It pulls me too it.

I look around once more before running into the heat. “Stephanie stop!” Ignore it, push closer to the beckoning of the flames. I push closer into the heat and it draws the moisture from my pores. The smoke is thick and germinates in my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. The crying is beginning to fade. Panic, fear, desperation. I reach forward and the fire licks my hand reflexively pulling it close to my body. Jason is upon me, coughing weakly and pulling me back out of the flames. I push back one last time before the beam collapses.

I feel the fluidity of my wax-like skin under the influence of the fire’s language. The weight leans squarely onto my stomach. The nerves in my skin melting away. I see Jason to my left with a segment of ceiling, not consumed by the ebb and flow of the glowing embers, crushing down on his rib cage. His wrist is twisted at the joint, sprained most-likely. He lays mostly still, trying to breathe around the grinding of his ribs. The small cut on his hairline from before, evolved into a 4-inch gash across his forehead. Cass, was at the top of the stairs when the sky fell, and stands disoriented, nursing an already blackening eye. She maneuvers to me immediately, and begins to remove the shards of sky from my torso, trying in desperation to put out the blaze that whispers to me in its foreign tongue.

I know I should be feeling the pain, but I don’t. I smell the burning of flesh and know that it’s mine, is it mine? Yes. I can see it eating away at me. There is something I do feel, I can feel the tears making trails through the ash on my face. I feel the burn in my throat, I’m aware that I’m screaming. I feel like I’m bleeding out, but from where? I don’t know. I feel the heat. Jason and Cass throw their bodies across mine, trying to suffocate the flames. Cass moves to my head and cradles in in her lap ever so gently, she wipes my face and brushes the embers from my hair. “Shhhhh.” She coaxes, but she’s not the only one coaxing me, the darkness does too and the fire as well. It fights Jason back sternly, burning away at his shirt and his hands, turning the white streak in his hair a muted grey.

I want to go with the fire, it promises to take away the pain. It speaks to me in its own language. “Stephanie, please keep your eyes open.” Cassandra whispers shakily from above me, so I do. I force them to absorb the light of the fire. The warmth recedes from around me and the fragments of sky removed. Jason moves to my side, taking my non-damaged hand in his charred fingers. “I’m going to pick you up now Steph. It’s going to hurt like a bitch… just hang in there.” his eyes gleam with moisture and his hands are shaky on mine. I want to tell him that I feel like something’s wrong, that it’s not just the shock that is freezing my vocal cords in place. I can’t, I can’t move, I can't breathe. He looks at me, and we share the truth between us. I’m dying, I can feel it creeping closer, dulling the pain. He gets his arms under my knees and shoulders and he hoists me up to his chest. I gasp, the charred skin, tearing in places. He screams through clenched teeth, and I can feel his broken ribs grinding against mine.

I remember the times when I was in these arms. They’ve always been safe to me. The memories crash down on me, one after another, never giving me the chance to catch my breath. The time Jason carried me back to the manor when I twisted my knee, bringing himself to come face to face with Bruce when they were still on bad terms, to get me home safely. They’re strong arms, muscular and warm, and safe, painted with the scars of his past.

_Just focus on his heart beat, make yours match. Then everything will be okay. Then I’ll be able to tease him after his date with the pretty ginger from the coffee shop. He’ll blow it for sure, we’ll laugh and go out to lunch to discuss it, just me and him like we… like we… used to. Like we used to… I guess._

Cass’s hand grips mine, fear radiating through her fingertips. What’s going to happen to her when I go? She can handle herself technically, but without me to translate, to keep her company… to remind her what it’s like to be part of a family. That day when it dawned on her, like the sun rising over the docks. When the warmth of belonging hit her right in her core. She looked to me, like a child does a mother before jumping in the pool. Her smile was so bright it could’ve brightened the entire world on its own. What will happen to that smile if I’m not there to maintain it? Will it fall? Will it disappear altogether? _Please… Please just don’t leave her alone._

Rainy days training with Dick. His laughter echoing peacefully through the gymnasium. Him teasing me gently and smiling fondly, cheering me on every step of the way. Someone I can talk to, someone I can depend on.

Barbara is the big sister everyone wishes they had. Long nights with our feet dangling precariously hundreds of feet from the bustling streets below. Talking about who would win in a fight: Cass or Bruce. Obviously Cass was the winner in our books. Hours of perfect, blissful, comforting silence. More beautiful than a watercolor sunset over the endless sea.

Showing up unexpectedly at school for a parent teacher conference, and later endless hours at a grimy diner, ordering milkshake after milkshake. Welcoming me into this collection of extra puzzle pieces that wouldn’t belong anywhere else. Bruce. Thank you.

Tim. Tim. What more can I say? My heart skips painfully in my chest at the thought. More painful even then the jostling of my broken body. And I feel myself begin to sob. All I can manage to think about is his hands, how they feel when they’re entwined with mine. _Goodbye Tim. Take your time._

Afternoon tea with Alfred. Reading to Damian on a specifically tough night last February. Jason teasing me after a rarely awkward patrol with Tim. All of us in the car this morning in that one surreal moment, when we were all silently enjoying each other's company. My heart begins to throb painfully, beating faster, too fast, skipping beats in its unnerving rhythm. There are hands on my head on my neck, panicked words jumbling in the stifling air.

I hear nothing but the whispering of the fire as I’m ripped away. I want to hold onto the thump thump thump of his heart, I want my heart to beat in unison. But melodies die all the time, and so do people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said the writing style is a little... on the intense side, and for that I apologize. I also apologize because I am a cruel and horrible person so sorry for that too. So, please comment if you have any comments, questions or concerns! Up next: Damian Wayne!!


	6. Canary in a Coal Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dudes get ready for some emotional trauma. Don't say I didn't warn you.   
> :) please don't hate me :)

**Damian**

Minute particles of dust spin endlessly, trapped in a dizzying waltz in the small stream of light by my side. Other than that pinpoint of gold, there is only darkness and ash, a fallen giant swaddled in destruction.

I lay still for what seems like quite a long time. Taking the opportunity to count my breaths, to remind myself that I’m still alive. With every exhale the dust particles swirl in the shaft of light and threaten to choke me. Burning sigils into my lungs, causing my eyes to water. I try to sit up but something weighs on my left arm, crushing it under its weight. It is then when the panic consumes me. I whimper trying to pull my arm free in frustration, causing a shard of pain that races up from my fingertips to my shoulder and the limb bends at no discernable joint. Trapped in shock I manage a strangled scream, the pain hitting me like a freight train would a Jenga tower, sending me toppling to the misery below.

With my other arm, I manage to push the debris away revealing what’s left of my appendage. My breathing transforms into a type of breathy laugh, trapped somewhere between sobbing and complete hysteria. Staring at the shattered limb I’m seized by uneven breathing, my body twisting and contorting under the mercy of my breathless cries. I squeeze my eyes shut letting the tears fall fast and free. Ever so gently I lift the limb and painstakingly zip it into my hoody. I close my eyes and attempt to compose myself, unsuccessfully. Gasping for oxygen in the smoke filled, ash littered air. Disrupting the dust, still dancing in their small shaft of light.

“Damian?” The word is weak, almost incomprehensible, it seems to bounce off of the jagged corners of the space. I quiet my hysteria and listen again. “Dami- Damian?” My eyes widen in a sickening concoction of guilt and relief. It’s Drake! He’s alive somewhere in this wasteland. _Damian you fool!_ My subconscious hisses at me. _You self-absorbed fool!_ It’s moments like these where I’m reminded how much of a child I actually am. I’m a self-obsessed child who only thinks of how he can save himself, and it’s sickening.

“Drake?” My voice breaks and at this point I don’t bother trying to hide the emotions that cling to the word. “Tim? Are you here?” I close my eyes and small bulbs of emotions drip from them without embarrassment. “Tim?” The word but a broken whimper. Sobs shudder through my body and I find myself gasping again for air. “Damian… Dami where are you?” I jolt up suddenly, ignoring the jostling on my useless mess of shattered bones. So I wasn’t imagining it, he’s here, he’s actually here and he’s alive!

Using my arm that still remains intact I push myself up and crawl on my three working appendages through the jungle gym of rubble. “Tim where are you? I need you to continue speaking so I can locate you.” “I-” Coughing erupts from somewhere to my left, wet and resonating deep within him. “I’m over here.” I snap my head in the direction of the voice and feel my way around the jagged rock. “How are your chances of survival?” “Um…” He speaks again and I adjust my search. I hear his breathing increase in speed and intensity, and when he speaks again I can hear the tears he’s holding hostage in his throat. “Not great.”

My heart skips painfully in my chest at the sound. It’s true that Drake and I didn’t have the best relationship, I hated him at times, but now… now I don’t know what to do. I just want him to live so maybe we can work it out later, somewhere that’s warm and well lit. Then it strikes me how fortunate I’ve been these last few years. I’ve had a family, Titus and the butler Pennyworth, all of which apparently _love_ me, and I’ve… I’ve disregarded them without a second glance and now we may all die.

My hand is met with something different than the cold concrete, a warm hand. I grip it tightly and it returns the gesture without hesitation. I follow the limb to the rest of his body only to discover that most of it is buried under the rubble. “Damian?” “Who else would it be Drake?” It comes off more bitter than I intend it too and bite my lip instinctively. But Drake merely breathes out a small laugh before the nerves in his body reject the movement and he whimpers helplessly at their mercy. “Status report Drake.” I try to keep myself calm, useless as that may be. Mother once told me that in times like these when someone is d- injured, it’s best for them to stay as calm as you can manage, although at the time I can’t manage much.

He takes another shaky breath, with each one his face contorting in pain. “Well, my shoulder is dislocated, most if not all of my ribs seem broken, I think I might be bleeding internally-” His speech cut off by a wince. “My head is bleeding from somewhere and- and I-” His voice is thick with tears again, trying to push past them to spare his ribs the task of sobbing. “I can’t feel my ri- my right leg. So it’s either crushed or its-” He bites his lip and blinks the tears from his eyes, to stroll gently down his grimy face. “Or it’s not there anymore.” He closes his eyes and breaths as deeply as he dares.

Then his eyes, that seem to glow hazily in the muted grey light, turn to mine. “How about you Little D?” I swallow hard. He’s injured badly, and there is nothing I can do about it. “My right arm is crushed pretty uh… pretty badly. Good thing I’m ambidextrous.” Tim manages a blood stained smile in return, and we spend the next few minutes in silence. My thoughts racing, pulling out file after file in my mind on how to fix this, but I can’t, I- I can’t fix it.

“Why did you say those things to Jason, Damian?” I’m caught off guard by the question and it takes me a second to recall what he’s talking about. “I don’t know.” I mumble absently. “Yes- yes you do.” He clenches his teeth and hisses quietly as the rubble shifts on top of him. He’s right, I do know. I knew the second I said it the true meaning shielding itself behind the words. “I just don’t trust him to stay… but I want him to. I just don’t- didn’t think he...” My voice trails off, and my eyes moisten again. “Didn’t…” Tim repeats the word, tasting and deciphering it. “You think he’s… dead?” The words are so small they feel like needles in my chest. “I don’t know Drake.” I release his hand and crawl back over to the shaft of light.

“What are you doing?” I ignore him, his question will be answered soon enough. I unwrap my pride, tie my ego within it and throw them both to the side. “HELP US!!! WE’RE DOWN HERE!! HELP!” “Dami-” “PLEASE HELP!” “Damian-” “SOMEBODY, ANYBODY HE’S- HE’S DYING PLEASE.” I’m once again left gasping for air, drowning in my own raw emotion. “Dam’n” His words start to slur and I rush back to his side. “Drake? Tim? I need you to stay awake, for the first time in history I’m asking you to stay awake!” He doesn’t respond. “Tim? Tim!?” I slap his face with as much force as I can muster. His eyes fly back open and he swallows the blood that has begun to venture from the corners of his mouth.

“Dam’n?” “Yeah?” “You know when Jason is drunk or having a nightmare, and he talks about his coffin, how… how it felt?” “Yeah. Why?” Of course I already know why, he feels like he’s in his coffin, that he’s gonna die down here, and I will not allow that to happen. Though I ask the question anyway. He swallows hard again before answering, looking teary eyed into the rocks above his head. Wet trails write stories through the dust down his face and neck. He bites his lip, it trembles despite this. “I think I finally know what he’s been talking about and it’s- it’s awful. I can’t believe he’s able to hide it away so… so far away.” The childlike weakness of his voice breaks me in a place I didn’t know was able to. The fracture causes tears to stream freely from my eyes.

His body starts to spasm and I feel myself reaching out for him, for his face. “Tim? Please don’t go.” The words shake just as this building did before it crumbled, I assume it signifies the future crumbling of my own walls as well. “Th-they’ll be f-f-fine wit-without me.” His breathing begins to slow and I find myself trapped in the dizzying slowness of it all. “Tim! You’re being preposterous! Don’t you remember what happened to Father when Jason died, you said you were there, that you saw him after! That’s what’s going to happen if you die. Please! Pl-please.” small squeaks, shudders running through my body, gasps for air that I use to quickly in my chaotic sobs. “Please! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!” Screams echoing through the cavernous space. “Tim open your eyes this instant!!” But his eyes aren’t even closed, they’re open and glassy and empty, and as the light drains from behind the teal orbs, the light drains from this cold September Tuesday as well, taking with it my warmth.

I’m frozen in those teal eyes, watching the last of a brilliantly colored slideshow flips behind them. Then they fog over entirely. His body stills, his hands start to go cold. His genius mind, ever as obnoxious as it could be, gone silent. The small specks of dust still spinning in their shaft of morning light.

And suddenly I’m on top of him, his face in my undamaged hand. “DRAKE FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE COULDN’T YOU HAVE JUST LISTENED TO ME??” His eyes stare blankly passed me, but I continue shouting the rage and grief and confusion and unfairness of it all boiling over in every way. Pushing and pulling my mind to the breaking point. My hand’s in a fist now containing my anger inside it. “WAKE UP DRAKE! WAKE UP!” I pound the fist on his chest. “FOR ONCE LISTEN TO ME WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!” I pounding harder now, faster, with all the strength I can muster. His body takes the impact without more than a hollow bong from where his heart used to beat. “YOU STUPID, RECKLESS, SELF ABSORBED FOOL! ALL YOU EVER DO IS MESS UP! YOU’RE A FAILURE DRAKE! YOU MESS EVERYTHING UP FOR EVERYONE!” I’m shaking uncontrollably now choking on the ash littered oxygen that occupies the small space. “YOU’RE MY BROTHER YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME GROW UP!! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LEAVE ME DRAKE!” The words ricochet back and hit me squarely in the chest. My words turn to ice and quiver rapidly in the stale air.

“You’re not supposed to leave me.” I fall into his chest and let myself whimper into the smoke stenched fabric of his t-shirt. And as I cry I’m taken aback by how loud a silent heart can be, the absence of sound, it’s deafening.

“I want my Dad.”

Silence.

“I want my Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start off by apologizing, the people over at Fanfiction got really upset when I posted this chapter. So, I'm sorry for any emotional distress I might have caused. 
> 
> Welp, anyway, up next is: Barbara Gordon! Yay! 
> 
> Stay posted!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> MS


	7. Crushing Future Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so i'm alive. I'm so sorry for the wait, life has been rather... unkind to me of late but I'm back now so here's another chapter!

**Crushing Future Plans**

**Barbara**

Any minute I’m going to wake up and all of this… this madness, and pain, and smoke… it will all just have been one really fucked up dream. Any minute now. Any minute.

“Barbara! Over here I think I’ve found Damian!” I drag my eyes off of the North tower, the tower that I know holds three of my sibling’s captive, and turn to Dick who is crouched by the smoldering remains of the South tower. I jog over, weaving my way in and out of ash encased people. Dick crouches, with a tear stained face, by what used to be the entrance. Making my way to his side I squat down, my eyes meeting his, hungry for answers. “A few minutes ago I heard some sort of yelling from this direction and I think it came from down here.” He points to a specifically menacing pile of rubble, one that looks like it shouldn’t be touched.

I open my mouth to respond but I’m seized yet again by the ash that has invaded my lungs. My eyes still sting from the South Tower collapse, when the cloud seemed to appear out of nowhere and the whole thing just, it just went down! It disappeared into a cloud- no into a wave of debris that enveloped the streets like a fucking tsunami. “Babs? Are you even listening to me?” I look back to him, halfheartedly dragging my palm across the dirt on my face.

There’s this small figure that is lying about 30 feet away from me, blanketed in both dust and someone’s disregarded sweater. From the size, it’s probably a young woman, mid-twenties most likely… my age. I wonder what her name is. I wonder if she has a family, I wonder if she also has 6 crazy not-technically-siblings siblings, 5 of which might actually be dead right now. I wonder what her fears were. Did she ever get a chance to fall in love, or was the only falling she did off this building? _How long have I been staring?_

“It’s not safe, I need you to step back, the other tower is still extremely unstable.” I snap my head away from the faded green sweater, and the person beneath it. A very bedraggled police officer is trying to pull Dick away from that monster of fallen rock. “No, no you don’t understand, you see my brothers are actually _down_ there and if you don’t mind I just- I just need to get them out. I ne- I _need_ to get them out!” The police officer shakes his head sadly as he continues to drag Dick away. “No, no, no, no stop! Let go of me! They’re down there! They’re down there!” I can’t bring myself to help him, I can’t even bring myself to wipe at the tears on my face.

It’s then when I hear something else. Something faint and far away, someone small and scared and angry, words cloaked in rage. I would recognize the voice anywhere. “I hear something.” I absently hold my hand up behind me, in a reaching gesture. I lean into the rubble that radiates heat and smoke, and asbestos. I lean my ear to the rock, supporting my weight on my knees, repeatedly pushing my hair away in frustration. I turn back to Dick, some small bead of energy that was hiding deep within me, unearthing itself. The police officer is standing inert, his head hanging in exhaustion while Dick, who is puddled on the ground, struggles to catch his breath in the abrasive, air.

I say it again, louder this time. “I hear something.” Suddenly he’s beside me, his ear were mine had previously been. His eyes light up, yet they darken, and I can’t expel the energy it will take to decipher its meaning. The voice in the rubble stops abruptly and we lean in closer, tuning all of the other sounds of the world out, focusing all of our energy on the small sound buried deep under what used to be a building.

“What’s he saying? Can you hear it?” Dick was closer to the building when it collapsed than I was, effectively damaging his hearing. I hold up a hand to him in answer. He sits down on his heels and waits anxiously, rocking back and forth on his knees, chewing on the dry skin of his lips, drawing blood. And then I hear it, a small whimper hundreds of pounds of rock away, it keeps saying the same thing, over and over and over again. I sit back, acutely aware of how exhausted I am. “It’s Damian, I know it is.” Dick leans forward to me, his eyes hopeful. “How do you know Babs? What’s he saying?” I really don’t want to repeat the words, because I feel the same longing deep in my heart too, I don’t want to say it because it hurts. “He’s saying, I want my Dad.”

Both of us seem frozen in time for a minute, mouths slightly agape, minds racing to formulate some sort of logical plan. Nothing. The North tower makes an angry growl as the supports groan and we’re shocked out of our daze. “Okay, let’s dig him out!” I almost seem to leap at the words. Dick pauses and it’s then I realize the way he holds his right hand. I feel the frown forming on my face before I have the mind to stop it. “What happened to your hand?” he doesn’t resist when I reach out and snag his wrist, pulling his hand not quite gently enough out of his shadow. It’s not pretty that’s for sure, and I feel my stomach churn unpleasantly as I gaze down at the mess in my grasp.

The skin itself is swollen, and inflamed, red and angry to the touch. The fingers are all pointed and twisted in different directions, some of them merely hanging on by their ligaments. There is what I assume used to be window glass, wedged into his metacarpals effectively rendering his hand useless. A clear and putrid smelling fluid boils up from under the skin and oozes down the length of his sausage sized fingers. Blood creeps curiously along every inch of what used to be his hand. “Dick what the hell happened?” I whisper absently as I take off my sweatshirt. I put the fabric between my teeth and rip it into long strips. “When the tower collapsed I tripped and fell and caught some falling debris by accident. It doesn’t hurt though, the glass must have severed my nerves…” His voice trails off, and I can tell he’s trying to hide how scared he is. I wrap the hand tightly, scooping up his fingers and folding them gently into the fabric. With that dealt with I turn once again to the rubble.

I lean as far as I can without putting any weight on the building’s skeleton. I muster all the strength I have and shout as loud as I can. “Damian? Buddy are you down there?” It’s quiet for a while, and even though the air sends spikes of ice through my skin, sweat drips from my face and down my back. “Gordon?” The voice is so broken, but despite this my face bursts into a radiant smile and I release the breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. “Yeah Dami it’s me! It’s me Dami! We’re gonna get you out okay?” “Is...Is Father there?” I look to Dick whose smile falls off his face as if made of ice. We speak silently between us for a moment, panicked words cutting through the static of the day. “Are you still there?” There are tears in his young voice, tears I’ve never seen before. “Yeah buddy we’re still here.” Dick answers sweetly.

“That’s it I’m digging him out right now.” I turn back to the rock when Dick puts his good hand on my shoulder. “Not until we know about Tim. If you go in right now and Tim is buried somewhere else you could cause the rubble to shift and…” His eyes finish the sentence for him. _Okay… Okay. I can do this! I can stay calm. Just one step at a time Babs. You got this._ “Damian, what about Tim?” “Tim’s… he’s gone.”

You know that feeling when you’re just sitting in bed and then all of the sudden you remember something you have to do, and there’s this weird jolt of adrenaline that tingles through your whole body and you start to freak out? Imagine that, but instead of a jolt of electricity, it’s a fucking wrecking ball and you go flying around a hamster ball made of barbed wire. Except - Except it’s all in slow motion, like watching wax melt and your mind can’t process the information so you just try to run away but, nope! You can’t run away because you’re trapped in that hamster ball of barbed wire and you just keep getting knocked down every time you try to escape.  


I look up to find that I’ve fallen onto my back, my ears ring and I’m not sure why. I feel something wet on my face. _Is it raining?_ Dick sits a few paces away, clutching his chest as his heart shatters beneath the surface. I feel the pain lurking in the back of my mind, giving me a second to process. _No. No. No. Push it away Barbara we need to get Damian out, we need to get Damian out… We need to get Damian… and Tim. Yes. Both of them._ I push myself up, numb. Uncomfortably numb, but better than the alternative. I crawl past Dick, ignoring him, blocking him out. Numb.

I reach out to the pile, dragging off the smaller pieces, dragging off whatever I can. If he’s close enough to hear me then he’s close enough for me to dig him out. There’s no sounds, no pain, no smoke invading my lungs. Just a mound of rock, separating me from my little brother. “Barbara?” _Bruce?_ I turn my head to find Bruce kneeling beside me. His clothes are dirty and torn, blood travels slowly down his temple. Anger prickles beneath my skin, it races up my spine and it’s all I can do not to beat him to the ground.

I stand harshly, a low growl escaping my lips “Where and the hell have _you_ been.” His expression changes rapidly, 100 different emotions I don’t have the time to analyze. “I got trapped in the surge of people.” He says the words fast, breathlessly, something I’ve never heard out of Bruce’s mouth before. “Where’s everyone else?” He looks around anxiously. Dick pipes up from my left, speaking as calmly as he can manage. “All we know about Stephanie, Cassandra and Jason is that they went into the North tower before the collapse, we haven’t seen them yet. Damian and- and Tim- um… are under there.” 

I don’t have the time or the patience to listen to them, I block them out again and resume digging, I’m making some serious progress. I’m about waist deep, head first when I reach a cavernous space. Dick and Bruce have been yelling at each other and me for the past 5 minutes but I’m doing my best to ignore them both. “Dami?” I reach out, pushing more rocks out of my way, the mound shakes slightly and I freeze. Someone is trying to pull me out by my feet, but I kick back hard, from the sound I assume it hit whoever it was squarely in the chest. “Damian?” I reach out again, wiggling deeper into the fallen beast.

I find someone’s hand, it’s warm, and squeezes me back. “Dami?” I ask as softly as I can, I only get a squeeze in response. I pull the hand closer to me trying to back my way out of the rubble, then I put my hand in the wrong spot, I push on the wrong thing, I do something differently. The concrete quivers above me and I try to pull back, to calm whatever I have disturbed, but it’s too late. A large slab loses its balance and falls towards me. My eyes widen, no sound will escape my vocal chords, someone above me screams my name.

The crack, the sound, it’s indescribable. It landed squarely on my back, crushing something when it did so. I can still feel the hand on mine, squeezing me back hard out of fear. I evict tears from my eyes and they fall into the dust below. It’s not about the pain I feel, it’s about the pain I don’t feel. Any minute I’m going to wake up and all of this… this madness, and pain, and smoke… it will all just have been one really fucked up dream. Any minute now. Any minute.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I'm sorry.
> 
> anyway, up next is everyone's favorite assassin: Cassandra!!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!
> 
> MS


	8. How I Wish I Could Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am back with another chapter, sorry for the wait! Prepare for a mediocre portrayal of Cassandra Cain. I tried my very best so I hope you like it.

**How I Wish I Could Scream**

**Cassandra**

Her golden hair dances, like the fire does, now stained with blood and ash. It follows her like a ghost as Jason stumbles down the stairs. Every few steps he glances over his shoulder at me, almost like he’s expecting me to disappear. “C’mon Cass stay close.” his words breathless, and aching with the grinding of his ribs. I step closer, reaching out and grabbing ahold of the back of his t-shirt out of the childlike fear that the situation evokes.

Around and around and around we go, down floor by floor, then the building settles suddenly, the supports trembling under the weight, flaming debris from the floors above raining down spitefully. Jason crouches over, ushering me closer to him, shielding me with his own body. A large beam sails through the air from my left and I can feel Jason’s muscles tense. The beam catches on the rails several floors down, and lodges itself between the metal, catching other smaller pieces of debris, building a wall, a cage, a fiery blockade.

Jason stands up again, a snarl escaping his throat. “Fuck.” We make another hard left, spiraling down and down and down the tower. I keep a close eye on Steph’s lax body in Jason’s arms. Then she makes a noise, a sort of anguished cry, but quiet and breathy. Something you wouldn’t hear unless you were really listening. Then the soft tension in her brow fades completely and Jason stops dead in his tracks. He looks down at her, his eyes painted this strange panic, something I can’t sound out. I look back to her hair, soft and flowing gently, completely oblivious.

It pools to the floor as Jason sets her down gently, frantically asking her questions, grasping her face between his badly charred hands. He lowers his head to rest on her chest, his ear pressed firmly to her angry skin. For an instant everything is still, my mind races numbly unable to formulate my thoughts into words. _What’s happening? Is Steph going to be okay? Can we leave now? Are we going to be okay? Where are the others? Is there an enemy to fight against? I don’t understand._

Silence.

His head bolts up from where it was resting on her chest, he’s moving too fast, he’s testing his sprained wrist, liquid leaks from his eyes and I find I’m lost somewhere between blissfully ignorant and painfully aware. He catches my concerned glance, “She’s going into cardiac arrest. I need you to come over here and hold her mouth open and hold her nose closed.” I comply without a thought; I know what cardiac arrest means. I gravitate to her head, lifting her chin to open her airway. Jason positions himself over her ribcage and starts. “One, two, three, four…” Each number more breathless than the one before it.

He looks to me and I blow air into her lungs and he continues counting, his face a mixture of anger, panic, fear, sadness and pain, and it’s then when I remember about his injuries. The concussion, the broken ribs. I blow again, he does more chest compressions, I blow again, and he does more. It continues like this for longer than I care to admit.

“God Dammit Steph!” Jason’s cursing now, screaming out in equally painful and angry cries. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” I blow again, the voice in my head starting to convince me it’s helpless. The tears prickle quietly along my waterline. I ignore them. The minutes stride past, and I know there is only a matter of time until… until… “Stephanie god dammit! Are you really so lazy you can’t handle pumping your blood on your own? C’mon Steph! Stephanie!” No. She’s gone. I know she is. I can feel it, she’s just beyond reach, just in the shadows. Fingertip length away. I release my hold on her, we have to let her go right? Isn’t that the right thing to do?

Every cell in my body screams at me to stay put, to keep fighting. _Is that what I’m doing? Am I fighting for her?_ No. Failing her more likely. Jason cues me again. His eyes a wild cage fight of emotions. “Cass!” I simply shake my head minutely, I take my hands and wipe the tears aggressively from my eyes, suddenly angry. “What are you doing? Cass! We have to keep doing this or she’ll die!” He looks so confused, not daring to believe that I’m right, that she’s…

“Cassandra? Are you going to help me or not?!” His voice rises again, a voice that would make the average person cower in fear. Safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t hurt me if he tried, especially in his current state. I reach forward and grab his non-injured wrist firmly. “Jason.” I don’t recognize my own voice, it’s swollen with emotion, and choked with smoke. “No.” He shakes his head furiously, and tries to wretch his hand away weakly. “Jason.” I say again. He refuses to meet my eyes, his grey orbs glued to where her heart should be beating.

Then I’m distracted by an ever growing crimson bloom on his torso. I find myself again at a loss for words, I pull on his wrist, trying to get his attention. He doesn’t even react. His eyes glazed over either in shock, or in pain. Maybe it’s just a scrape, something he aggravated. Or he ripped some stitches from an old gash that’s maybe just a few centimeters deep, something that is barely even a problem. But what if it’s not? What if it’s something really bad that I can't save him from? What if he dies too and I’m stuck here all alone in this falling tower and then there I am again, all alone, just like I was before they found me and took me in. No. I can’t. _C’mon Jason! Say something! Jason look at me! Do something! Do anything!_ I reach out for the maroon mark but he pulls away drunkenly. “Stop Cass... Just stop.” He tries to pull away but he folds into himself crying out softly at the protest of his ribs. I reach for him again, but he bats my hand away. _Jason you have to let me see what’s wrong!_ I will him to her me, but with the roaring flames and the terrified people, not to mention how far away his mind is at the moment, he’s unreachable. Just like Steph… Unreachable.

Still grasping his wrist tightly, I scoot my way around Steph’s head to his side. I look into his eyes to find them vacated, his mind light years away, his body shutting down in the turmoil. My hands migrate to his shoulders and I shake him in my panic, I shake him again, way too violently given his condition. He tries to retreat numbly but I hold firm, keeping him cemented to the spot. My mind races in silence, tearing open pages of books long forgotten, trying to force its way into a conclusion. This much I know: We’re somewhere near the 19th floor. I’m relatively uninjured, maybe a fractured orbital socket. Jason is very badly injured and is stuck somewhere in the vast abyss of hysteria. Steph is- is dead. The building is coming down and we’re too high to jump.

Whelp… That actually wasn’t helpful whatsoever! I watch as my hands start to tremble, and I become aware of how tightly I’m gripping his t-shirt. I let go suddenly and stare down at my trembling hands, there is blood on them, and I honestly couldn’t tell you where it came from. My lips move. _Jason! Jason!!_ There is no sound escaping them. _Oh god, no. What is happening to us? Jason is one of the strongest people I have ever met, for him to break down like this is- was impossible- was unfathomable!_ I shake the thoughts from my head and pull his shirt up without thinking twice.

It’s truly horrifying to look at. He’s leaning against the wall now, staring blankly behind me. His body must be in shock. What if he’s bleeding internally? No. Can’t think about that now. The skin around what I can only describe as a stab wound is already angry and purple, encrusted with ash and fragments of rock. How these particles ended up here I have no idea. The area is charred and the involved tissues bubble in distaste. That must be why the wound only began bleeding now, the burns cauterized it, and when he was doing CPR it must have torn back open. It’s only then I take another look at his shirt, the inside of it had somehow melted to the skin, and now chunks of flesh cling to it. The fabric itself is filthy, singed and now covered in sweat, blood and whatever other fluids this putrid hole in his flank is excreting.

My stomach churns, not out of disgust, I’ve inflicted much worse wounds then this myself; it churns because I’m… I’m afraid. Over the time since Jason and I met, we’ve become pretty close. He didn’t treat me like an unstable nuke like the rest did, he didn’t treat me like a child. He gave it to me straight, he took me under his wing immediately, without making it a big deal, because he knows how it feels. How it feels to be all alone, to have no one to turn too, to not belong, to be pushed into a world completely disoriented and traumatized. I’ll never be able to tell him how grateful I am for that, the difference it made.

Not knowing what to do I just shove the dirty fabric back at the gory thing in hope of staunching the flow of blood. I push at it with both hands flinching slightly when his ribs make a sickening crunch. The crunch snaps him out of his daze, and he wakes with a start, as if straight out of a nightmare. Probably doesn’t realize he’s waking up into one. He jolts upright and kicks me away reflexively. Then doubles over in an agonized wail. Then he stills for a long time and I, not knowing what else to do just… sit there and wait. I pull my knees up to my chest and listen to the grinding of his bones at he tries to slow his breathing. “... Cass?” His voice rough and unstable. I don’t answer and he lifts his head just enough to see me through his curtain of blood soaked hair. “Sorry I kicked you.” Well that was the last thing I was expecting to hear, I was thinking more along the lines of _what happened?_ Or a very elaborate string of curses. But no, he’s apologizing. Of all things, he’s apologizing.

I shrug slightly and then point to where this injury lay. He follows my finger, raising a skeptical eyebrow when his eyes land on the bloody splash. He lifts his shirt gingerly, growling between clenched teeth. Staring down that the grotesque thing for a few seconds in silence. At first I think that he’s freaking out again, then he simply drops the hem of his shirt and says “...huh… weird.” He struggles to his feet and leans heavily against the wall. “So… you wanna get the hell outta here or…?” I allow a small smile to creep its way onto my lips. I nod and he smiles back tiredly. “Great. Me too.” He looks back down to Steph’s body and I follow his lead. Heart constricting painfully at the sight. “Grab her, we’re going home.” He pushes himself off the wall and starts back down the stairs, down to the fiery blockade, something we’ll have to address soon. But for now I let my mind think of something else.

Home.

Home sounds nice.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up we have another chapter from Dick. Don't worry, Jason will have his chapter soon enough.
> 
> Until next time, 
> 
> MS


	9. Watching it All Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys, this chapter is a little wonky so it took me awhile. Hope you enjoy!

**Dick**

“God Dammit Dick! We don’t have time to discuss this!”

“Then tell me Bruce! Why the hell did you bring it up?!”

Then that batglare. Always with the batglare. Then that pile of rubble swallowed my best friend and what’s left of two of my baby brothers and the day got even worse than it already had been. While keeping my gimp hand to my chest I vaguely remember digging with my other hand and then Bruce screamed something along the lines of “Stop it’s unstable!” and so I ended up here somehow, sitting Indian style rocking my injured hand slowly. I’m vaguely aware of how stupid I look but I also don’t give a fuck.

Slowly but surely I come back to my senses. The sirens. The heat from the fires. The cold September wind. The fast beating of my heart. How the cloud of smoke nearly blots out the sun. The pain in my hand. The numbness of my brain. I stand, unsure of what to do, I have tunnel vision, focusing on the soles of Barbara’s sneakers. I stumble back to the mound, the panic rising over the static in my brain. “Barbara? Can you hear me?” I look up to meet Bruce’s anxious eyes. He puts a hand on my shoulder and for the first time in a long time speaks to me softly. “Dick, that’s the third time you’ve asked her that…” _What? Is it? Wait…_ I assumed that given my training in stressful situations I would be able to handle this with ease, but there’s something very different about this. The lack of control I think. That sounds like something a sane person would say.

“Yes I can still hear you _Dick_.” answers a tearful voice from the rubble. Barbara. “Oh… I’m just triple checking…” Bruce steps back and turns to a team of fireman, and begins talking in his batman voice. I try to focus on something else… I settle on trying to make Babs feels better, which, if I’m being honest with myself, is impossible. But I’ve always loved a challenge. “Hey Babs?” “What??” _Note: In times of great stress Babs is a little snappy._ “How are you holding up? Is Dami still with you?” “Yes he’s still with me, and not great in case you haven't noticed!” I hear her start to hyperventilate and I find myself at a loss for words. “I… Don’t know what to say Babs. I know that’s really unlike me but I don’t.” We’re both silent for a while, both just trying to stay breathing. Then out of nowhere a fond smile creeps its way onto my face. “You know if Jason was here he would say that hell was freezing over or some snarky remark like… that…” Jason? I wonder where he is. No. Focus on Babs. “Yeah you’re right, he probably would.” she responds in a strained voice. “Dick something is wrong, like something is really wrong.” I chuckle slightly. “Yeah Babs I can tell, you’re half buried under a mountain of rub-” “No.” She interrupts. “Dick I- I can’t feel my legs.”

The smile falls immediately from my face. And my mind finds itself caught in a riptide. It’s being pulled down under the water again and again, gasping for explanations but finding only dark water. In my struggle I’m reduced to a child, shivering in the cold September winds, helpless and afraid. “Bruce?” I whimper, cradled in the unfairness of it all. He doesn’t hear me, and I feel the darkness seeping closer. “Bruce?” I try again, deafened by the sounds of the big top, the sound human bodies make when they fall from the trapeze. “BRUCE!” I awake back in reality, and he whips around to face me, a million expressions racing across his face. I find that I’m on my knees and I think about standing but I don’t have the energy.

He walks over and bends down to meet my distant expression. “Dick, what’s wrong?” My throat constricts painful and I find it suddenly hard to swallow. “Barbara - she can’t…” I look back to the soles of her shoes. “Her legs. She can’t feel her legs.”

After that I stopped fighting, I just let myself break a little, let the smoke seep through the cracks. My mind slips through and I find myself several years in the past, warm and safe, the smell of fresh stain and antiseptic. Cookies, cookies that have gone cold, forgotten. Then… Then I remember, and the room turns cold.

_I was injured after a mission with the Titans, Terry had said that he saw somewhere that Jason had been killed. I managed to get myself over to the computer and hack into Bruce’s files and sure enough, there were the words: **JASON TODD: DECEASED.** I just screamed, I didn’t know what else to do, I had no other way to voice the pain I felt. I was never a good enough brother, I was never around enough, I never loved him enough, I was never good enough for him. He deserved so much more. _

_Now here I am, sitting on the couch in the study, wringing my hands, wiping my eyes, trying to swallow the emotions I feel. Then Bruce walks in as if everything is as perfect as could be and it’s all I can do not to leap down his throat. But I keep calm, I let the tears show, and I ask him how it happened, and the fact that Jason was trying to save his mother just makes the whole situation 100 times worse. I sink as far back as I can into the well maintained leather and spend the next hour or so just sitting, staring, and trying to formulate some kind of explanation._

_Bruce didn’t join me in my silence, he left just mere seconds after telling me what happened, not able to face himself he put on his cowl and disappeared violently into the night. It was Alfred who walks into my line of vision, and distracts me, tells me of how well Jason was doing in his classes, how his face lit up when he saw the library for the first time. How he loved Jane Austen. How excited he was to meet his Mother._

A special kind of pain was born inside me that day, one that flares up gently every time I look at Jason, one I didn’t think would ever be more painful than it was that day. Yet here I am, immobilized by that same pain, because this time, 3 of my siblings might die, and you know what? I’m not sure if I would survive that. So I just sit here, and let myself be frozen by the fear and the pain and everything else that fits the boxing gloves.

7 firemen and Bruce drag Babs out of the rubble, pulling her out slowly and as gently as possible, they waste no time strapping her to a gurney and rushing her off a few blocks away to the makeshift medical center. Next comes Damian, eerily silent as he’s pulled from the darkness. There are tear and blood trails down his face, and he holds his arm to his chest. His face, expressionless. Bruce takes him from the arms of the fireman, and falls to the ground with him in his grasp. He stands Damian up and wipes his cheeks with his thumbs, ruffles his hair and folds him to his chest. If I hadn’t known them I would think they were just a normal father and son, ones that show love for each other regularly.

After they take Damian away with Barbara it takes them several minutes to free Tim from the rubble. Then they drag him out… When they drag him out. Something inside me loses all of its strength and I collapse into myself again. I’m vaguely aware of the anguished cry that rips itself from my heart at the sight. Greif plucking with ice cold fingers over my vocal chords, painting the young corpse with jagged cries. His eyes, lay open. A fine layer of fog conceals the fierce blue that lived beneath. One arm drags dislocated from the socket. His chest collapsed in several places and his -- what _used_ to be his pelvis and left leg is crushed almost beyond recognition.

They lay him on the ground by Bruce’s feet, and if I were capable of movement I would be right by his side, but I’m not. I’m stuck to the spot as if nailed down. So I watch from a distance as Bruce’s knees collapse, and he gathers Tim in his arms and weeps. At first I think the grief has gotten to me, and I’m seeing things but yes, there he is, the dark knight, weeping.

Then I weep too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up in Jason so stay tuned!


	10. Somewhere Nobody Can Hear you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I keep forgetting to post so I'm going to just post the next chapter every Wednesday at aroud noonish or whener I can I guess. Sorry for the wait though!

**Jason**

I stumble down the stairs, Cass at my heels. Just ahead is that fiery barricade and a small pocket of panicked people. It just can’t be easy can it? No, of course not. I make a mental note to give the universe a big fuck you when I have some down time. I stop a few floors above the small group and the fire and put a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “These people are in the midst of freaking the fuck out okay?” She nods, and I continue. “So we need to try to keep them as calm as possible if we want to be able to work together. Fear breeds chaos and we don’t need any more chaos. So if anyone asks about… about Steph-” A lump forms in my throat and I push it away. “Just tell them she’s unconscious. Okay?” She swallows hard and nods again, her eyes becoming glossy. “Okay.” I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and set off back down the stairs.

I get the crowded landing and glace around quickly. I see five people, one of them a badly burned fireman, three of them seem relatively unharmed and the last one has her arm tied tightly to her chest with lose fabric. I cringe eternally, looking at the three intact people and seeing that all of them don’t seem to have an ounce of muscle on them, while the woman with the broken arm is considerably bulky.

I move to approach them, suddenly aware of how much pain I’m in, my knee falters and threatens to give, Cass quickly maneuvers to my side and I use her shoulder as a support. My vision blurs considerably, and even with Cass beside me, my body threatens to crumple to the ground. My compromised wrist throbs and the hole in my side burns white hot. I blink, shake my head. I feel foreign hands on my arms, holding me steadily upright. “Hey are you alright buddy?” asks a voice from my left. “Sir, maybe you should sit down for a while.” Asks another. _No! I can’t sit down because if I sit down I won’t be able to get back up!_ I look to Cass who seems to read my mind. “Just give him a second. This will pass.” She explains coolly.

All five people scan us both for a moment and we’re all still. The woman with the hurt arm looks to Cass and asks sweetly. “Honey, is she okay?” Pointing to Steph. Then it all floods through my head. My siblings, my responsibility. The adrenaline begins to slowly push the dark spots of my vision away, slowly letting me ignore the pain. Cass is taken aback by the question, and looks up to me in an emotional panic. I manage a nod and she reads the words behind it. _Remember what I said. It’s okay, just tell them._ “No, she’s hurt badly.” Cass responds tears prickling in her bloodshot eyes. I blink hard once more before gently pushing the strangers off of me and loosening my hold on Cass’s shoulder. They step back wearily, arms outstretched in case I lose my balance again.

“Hey man are you sure you’re okay?” The fireman asks me. He’s sitting on the floor in what I can only assume is excruciating pain. “Yeah, I’ve just got a few busted ribs and sometimes it just catches me off guard. I’m Jason by the way, these are my sisters Cass and Stephanie.” The woman steps up first and extends her functioning hand in greeting. “Hello, I’m Gabriella,” she motions to the Fireman “That’s Tony and those three are Randall, Jefferson, and Emma.” They all wave and I greet them with my winning smile. Gabriella turns back to me expectantly. “So, you got any ideas?”

I let out a small breathy laugh in response and she smiles slightly. “I don’t think there’s any chance of moving that.” I begin and point to the billowing flames. “So that only really leaves two options. Either we go out the window…” I glace behind me at the 12 story fall and push past the knot in my gut. Gabriella speaks up from Tony’s side. “What’s the other option?” “Well it’s not so much an option as it is the inevitable.” I look back to her. And she nods stoically. “The tower falls and we all probably die.” I shrug microscopically. Jesus I’m so exhausted.

There’s an eerie silence, only occupied by the roar to the flames and the distant sirens 120 feet below us. The tower creaks in impatience and send chills racing down my spine. A small voice squeaks from behind me. “Then we have to go out the window. We can’t just wait here to die.” I turn to look at and find that it’s Jefferson that spoke. He’s small, maybe 5 ½ feet tall, with a skeleton like build. I look down to his loafers, his once finely pressed khakis, the white and blue button down that probably cost more than he’d like to admit. His hair is still combed over neatly, yet sweat gleams on his face. I look at this small man, standing as strongly as he can manage, being as brave as he could ever be, and I admire that.

I let myself smile. “Well then. What are we waiting for?” And just like that, the space brightens. I ask the others to go look on the higher floors for any sort of rope and Cass and I turn to the window. Cass sets Steph on the floor as you would a sleeping child, whispering something sweetly to her as she lowers her down. The action make my insides ache. Cass turns back to me and after merely glancing at the window states “I can kick through that.” I shake my head. “Let me do it.” She glares at me as if I’m the dumbest creature she’s ever had the displeasure to encounter. “You are already compromised Jason let me do it.” “Exactly!” She pauses and I continue eagerly. If it can keep her from hurting herself then I will, no questions asked. “I’m already compromised. It’s better for one of us to me more compromised then for both of us to be compromised. I already can’t do much right here, but you still can, it’s only logical to keep you as strong as possible.”

She swallows hard, soaking in the facts, chewing them slowly. Then, visibly unhappy about her conclusion nods. I let out a small sigh of release and approach the glass. It looks thin enough to shatter with one solid kick to the center of the pane. I ready myself, take a deep breath and kick.

The first sound I hear is the crunch of my ankle. Then the shattering of glass and finally the ripping of fabric. I feel Cass’s hands gripping the back of my jacket to keep me from going through the window. She yanks me back out of what I can only imagine is panic and I land with an agonized thud several feet away. My body quivers violently and I feel like I might vomit. My ribs grind with each breath I breathe and it takes all I have not to pass out right here. My head pounds so forcefully it shakes my vision. I feel my leg growing wet and I curse vibrantly in my head. Cass is by my side, snapping her fingers in front of my face. I try to respond, to blink but I’m frozen. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” she whispers to me as she makes her way down to my leg.

I recognize the unmistakable feeling of glass getting pulled from my skin and I want to flinch, to move away somehow, but my body lay inert on the floor, eyes staring stone like above me. She rips the bottom seam of her shirt off and ties it around the throbbing in my leg. _Oh shit. Shit! Shit! Shit! My ankle. God fucking dammit!!_ The room still spins but I manage to blink my eyes. The ringing my head subsides and I learn the Gabriella is a veteran and is talking Cass through how to set my ankle. I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-_ **CRACK.**

I shoot up straight, temporarily forgetting the blazing fire it set to my ribs. A sort of guttural, primal, scream of anguish explodes from my throat. “Shhh shhh shhh.” Cass soothes. The sound cuts off and my vision swims. “Jason. I’m just going to need you to take a few deep breaths. You’re ok but that window cut you up pretty badly, it turns out it was reinforced. Your ankle is broken and has just been set. Okay? Jason can you hear me?” Gabriella’s voice fades in and out as she talks to me. The others have returned and are talking about a fire hose. “The water is cut off, it’s useless now.” Responds Tony hopelessly. “But could we use it to lower us down maybe? Does that sound like something that would work?” inquires Emma. ‘I don’t know, maybe if-” Randall begins. “Yes.” melts hoarsely from my throat.

“What?” questions Gabriella from beside me. “Yes.” I cough again. “Yes what?” Asks Emma tentatively. “The fire hose. Yes. It- it’ll work.” I clear my throat and shake my head in a daze, vaguely aware of the questioning looks cast my way. “It will?” Asks Emma, a tinge of self-praise in her voice. She elbows Randall gently and whispers in victory “I told you.” Cass has her hand on my heart, something she does when she’s trying to calm someone. I meet her eyes and find them strangely quiet. She nods and helps me unsteadily to my feet. _Huh… I don’t remember asking her to help me up._ Inserts itself into my inner monologue. I shake my head one last time to clear the stubborn black spots that have invaded my vision. Leaning heavily against the wall I reach out “Hose please.”

It takes some time but the 7 of us eventually tie two harnesses into each end of the hose. I slip one end around my waist and the other around Jefferson’s thighs. “Don’t panic, just sit in it like you would a swing and once you get low enough start calling out for help.” His whole body started to shake violently as I spoke and I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. We got you.” Jefferson maneuvers to the window sill and sits with his feet dangling down. The other 5 of us who are able, stand in a line, the hose wrapped around our writs. Ready. He edges off of the sill and I’m taken aback by how light he is. We slowly ease him down until I have my good leg pressed against the sill holding his weight steady.

Emma watches from the sill and when he finally catches someone’s attention he drops the rest of the 7 stories into what was described to me as “A non-bouncy trampoline with a target on it.” and that was good enough for me. Tony speaks up telling us it’s called a life net, and we all cheer. Whilst dragging the hose back up we elect Tony to go next. He’s the heaviest and the more people we have to lower his down the better. Next we lower down Randall, than Gabriella with Steph and then Emma.

“Alright Cass, step in.” She waivers, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. “But Jason, what about you?” The question catches me off guard, the truth is I haven’t even thought about me. My strong-guy act falter and I find it hard to tell her the truth. _Honestly, I probably won’t make it._ “Don’t worry Cass, I’ll think of something. No way would I leave you alone with those guys.” I smile and I can tell she knows I’m lying but is choosing to believe me despite that. She wraps her arms around me, and we stay like that until the creaking of the building tears us apart.

She steps in and with one small wave, climbs off the sill. Down and down and down, she goes. Just about 8 feet of hose left when the tie around my waist begins to slip. Bile rises up through my throat, and I fumble with the tie. Holding her with one hand I try to tighten it but my grip slips and the hose tears through my grasp. I snatch it back with both hand and register the smell of rope burn and the screams of panic from the crowd below. I take a deep breath and try to continue lowering her down. Fist over fist.

But then the tower jostles violently and I scramble on my one leg, desperately trying to keep my balance. I slip, fall face first. I’m unable to catch myself and land with a crash on my side. The blinding pain in my chest causes me to momentarily go numb. I can feel the grip on the hose loosening. I fight for control over the pain, but by the time I grab ahold again its gone slack. I test the weight again and again in panic, but she’s not there.

She’s just... gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think is gonna happen? 
> 
> Until next week,  
> MS


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